I roll over to pull the covers up over my head, and there she is. Her nose is nearly touching mine. Her eyes say "Good morning, mind if I squeeze in here?" If I don't notice her because I'm slow to wake, she sends me another message. It's either in the form of a soft pawing at the covers, or a kiss directly to my face.
She waits, almost patiently, until I pick the blanket up and she pushes her way under the covers. And then with a big sigh, she curls up next to me, and cuddles the last 20 minutes of my morning with me.

When I finally pull myself up out of bed, she rolls onto her back and into my vacant spot, and I give her a good belly rub. It's as if she's saying "I've given it some thought, and I decided to make easier for you to scratch my belly, oh, and ps - thanks for keeping my spot warm."

It's become a ritual I've come to love. Granted, it's a barely conscious ritual on my part at 7:30 am, but she doesn't care. I often wonder if she knows how lucky and spoiled she is.